s arrest. He picked up the
receiver to answer the call.

"What name is that?" he demanded over the telephone. The name was
repeated and with a gesture of relief he exclaimed:

"Howard Jeffries!--what on earth does he want? I can't see him. Tell
him I'm----"

Bennington took his hat and turned to go:

"Well, I must be off."

"Don't go," exclaimed Underwood, as he hung up the receiver
mechanically. "It's only that infernal ass Howard Jeffries!"

"I must," said the manager. As he went toward the door he made a close
scrutiny of the walls as if searching for something that was not there.
Stopping short, he said:

"I don't see the Velasquez."

"No--no," stammered Underwood nervously. "It's out--out on probation.
Oh, it's all right. I can account for everything."

Mr. Bennington continued his inspection.

"I don't see the Gobelin tapestry," he said laconically.

"Oh, that's all right, too, if they'll only give me time," he cried
desperately. "Good God, you don't know what it means to me, Bennington!
The position I've made for myself will be swept away and----"

Mr. Bennington remained distant and unsympathetic and Underwood threw
himself into a chair with a gesture of disgust.

"Sometimes I think I don't care what happens," he exclaimed. "Things
haven't been going my way lately. I don't care a hang whether school
keeps or not. If they drive me to the wall I'll do something desperate.
I'll----"

A ring at the front door bell interrupted him.

"Who can that be?" he exclaimed startled. He looked closely at his
companion, as if trying to read in his face if he were deceiving him.

"Probably your friend of the telephone," suggested Bennington.

Underwood opened the door and Howard entered jauntily.

"Hello, fellers, how goes it?" was his jocular greeting.

He was plainly under the influence of liquor. When he left home that
evening he had sworn to Annie that he would not touch a drop, but by the
time he reached the Astruria his courage failed him. He rather feared
Underwood, and he felt the need of a stimulant to brace him up for the
"strike" he was about to make. The back door of a saloon was
conveniently open and while he was refreshing himself two other men he
knew dropped in. Before he knew it, half a dozen drinks had been
absorbed, and he had spent the whole of $5 which his wife had intrusted
to him out of her carefully hoarded savings. When he sobered up he would
realize that he had acted like a cowar